


Music, Dance

by 127s



Series: resonance prompts [7]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Tension, Whiny Mark, look i just couldn't rest until i wrote something about mark calling yuta oppa alright, yuta calls mark princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/127s/pseuds/127s
Summary: And then Yuta's hands are at his hips, and Mark has to hope that the older can't hear how loud his heart is racing. He gets what he's supposed to be doing, that he's supposed to be memorising the movements with Yuta's help, but he doesn't think his mind has ever been further from the choreography. Instead, it's stuck on how close he is, practically pressed against him, how his hands feel at his hips, at his sides, and how intimate the moment becomes."Is this okay?" Mark registers Yuta is asking him, and he swallows a little too hard, almost enough to make himself choke. Of course it's okay, he wants to answer, just definitely turning him on."Yeah." He says instead.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Series: resonance prompts [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993867
Comments: 15
Kudos: 266





	Music, Dance

Mark isn't sure why this dance is so hard.

Maybe it's because it's different, not like anything they've done before.

Or maybe it's because he's practicing between three groups and units at once, and he reaches a point where every choreography blends together, and he's not sure what he's supposed to be doing.

He's fine up until about midway through the choreography, when his concentration leaves and he mixes it up with a recent dance he'd learnt for Dream, and then he's frustrated and back to square one and has to restart the song over just to fall back into the loop of doing it all over again. Sometimes he feels like he's got the movements down in his head, but can't bring his body to cooperate.

He hasn't been any better in group practices either, and in a way he hates how his members are so _nice_ about it, because he feels like he's wasting their time every time he asks Taeyong to show him the dance break again, or goes through the steps of the chorus with the choreographer for what feels like the tenth time that afternoon.

It's late, he realises, and he's been there for longer than he'd thought, having stayed behind after the group practice. He takes a deep breath, bringing fingers through his hair. 

Moving across the room, footsteps loud in the silence, Mark picks up his phone, queuing the song a few more times after assuring it's still connected to the speaker. He glances to the time while he's at it, and somewhat wishes he hadn't, the reality of the lateness hitting him all at once in a wave of exhaustion. 

He stands straighter, willing himself to head back to the centre of the practice room, positioning himself to fall into the start of the choreography. The first half of the song feels effortless, by now he feels like he could do it on autopilot, but then it gets to the dance break, the last chorus, and he's lost, frustrated, confused, and he's going to have to start again, and—

"Mark?" He hears the door open, and exhales in a little further annoyance, the last thing he needs is someone pestering him to rest. "You're still here?" It's Yuta's voice over the music, and Mark doesn't turn to look at the source, instead looks to his hands like they're something interesting.

"I guess," He answers blandly, once more moving to his phone to pause the song, not quite feeling the urge to yell over it for the whole conversation. "Can't get this dance down." For some reason, it feels different telling Yuta. He's not sure why, and it's almost as if there's a level of disappointment he doesn't want to cross with the older.

Yuta hums. "Doesn't mean you should stay here all night, Mark. You need to rest." 

Instead of looking directly over to the other, Mark looks to the mirror instead, studying Yuta's reflection within it. He leans against the wall nearest the door, eyes on Mark. He's dressed casually, so Mark assumes he'd came from the dorms in search of himself. The group's practice, everyone leaving, had been hours ago, but it barely felt it. "I'll be behind for our next practice, I'll slow us down." He mumbles, and fiddles with the charger of his phone, bringing his gaze to it. 

There's silence for a minute, and then he hears Yuta moving, footsteps making Mark look up abruptly. "Put it on again. I'll go through it a few times with you. Then we're leaving and you're getting some rest, okay?"

Yuta now stood in the centre of the room, looking to Mark with expectance. It's admiring, Mark thinks, when Yuta is like this, it's not often that he sees the older step into any sort of leadership role, so Mark thinks he's lucky to see the times like this, where he's willing to take the time to help younger members like himself.

"Yeah, okay." Mark can't find himself doing anything but agreeing. He watches Yuta only a moment longer before looking down to his phone again, restarting the song from the beginning and setting it by the speaker once more.

He brings a habitual hand through his hair as he moves to Yuta's side at the centre of the room, facing the wall-length mirror he was all too familiar with. It's equally pressuring as it is relieving, being with the older, he knows he's going to do nothing but help, but he still feels more burdensome with everything he doesn't know, like he's wasting all the time in the world.

As he usually does, Mark gets through the first half of the choreography with ease. And then all at once, like clockwork, he reaches the point where he falters, forgets where he's supposed to go, loses himself mid-movement. "Mark. Eyes on me." He realises he's supposed to be doing that to begin with, but his stare had remained fixated on his own reflection, searching for every mistake, every wrong movement or direction he went in. 

He does as he's told, looks to Yuta's reflection instead of his own. He tries to mimic the movements the older does, but even still, it seems to get jumbled up between actually seeing it and doing it himself, confuses him and keeps him several beats behind Yuta. It's upsetting, because he's _trying_ and the choreography doesn't even seem hard when it's Yuta dancing to it, but he just can't get it. "Hyung," He complains. "I can't— I just can't."

It's frustrating, so frustrating when he knows he's wasting Yuta's time as much as his own, frustrating when he knows he's supposed to be the one helping Dream with this sort of thing, but he can't even do it himself, and frustrating when he knows he's got a million other, more complex choreographies to be working on, but he just can't get past this one.

He sees conflict on Yuta's expression, and he's sure it's because he wants to tell Mark it's okay to rest even if he doesn't get it yet, but knows Mark isn't so easily convinced. 

It's then the older's turn to move to Mark's phone and start the song from the beginning again. "Go again." He instructs, leaving Mark unmoving for a moment. He hadn't expected a reply to his string of complaints in that fashion. Still, he straightens, and starts the choreography from the beginning, putting his focus to the only music he's heard that night.

This time, Yuta doesn't stand beside him, doesn't dance as well, and instead just watches Mark. Sometimes, he stands to the side, watching in the reflection, other times he wanders to the front of the younger. And Mark can _feel_ the firm gaze on him, on his body, and it's just as pressuring as trying to dance beside him, despite the countless times he's done it. When he starts to slow, when the confidence of knowing the start of the choreography fades, Yuta comes closer, stands behind Mark. 

The closeness makes Mark feel as if he knows even less of the dance, or how to move his body in general, and it takes everything in him not to completely freeze up when two hands find his sides. Yuta counts along to the music, one hand staying at his side, and the other moving to Mark's arm. Mark feels limp beneath the touches, and lets his arm be moved to the position it's supposed to be, then the other. 

And then Yuta's hands are at his hips, and Mark has to hope that the older can't hear how loud his heart is racing. He gets what he's supposed to be doing, that he's supposed to be memorising the movements with Yuta's help, but he doesn't think his mind has ever been further from the choreography. Instead, it's stuck on how close he is, practically pressed against him, how his hands feel at his hips, at his sides, and how intimate the moment becomes.

"Is this okay?" Mark registers Yuta is asking him, and he swallows a little too hard, almost enough to make himself choke. Of course it's okay, he wants to answer, just definitely turning him on.

"Yeah." He says instead.

"Bring your hands down this." Yuta explains, taking both of Mark's into his own. He hums, guiding Mark's hands to his stomach, then trailing them down, further and further. Mark remembered that part of the choreography, but he hadn't remembered it making him feel like _this._

"Can you do that again?" Mark asks, in a tone so soft he doesn't recognise it. By now neither worried for keeping up with the music, it long having gone to just background noise over Yuta's instructions and their movements.

Yuta makes a noise of agreement, though this time opts to do the movement with his own hands, leaving Mark's by his sides. "Start from here," He's practically muttering directly into Mark's ear, and it almost gives the younger goosebumps. The palms of his hands settle against Mark's stomach. "And move to here." He drags his hands down until they pass the line of his hips. "Slowly."

Mark is sure he's imagining how much Yuta is pressed against him by now, and the slowness and intimacy of the movement makes him give a small, breathless noise. "Hyung," He whispers.

"Mm?" 

"Feels good. When you do that."

"Does it?" Yuta asks it like it's the most casual thing in the world.

Mark nods softly, leaning further back into the other. Ever so slightly, he tilts his head back, resting it at Yuta's shoulder. His hands settle at Mark's hips again, this time letting his thumbs slide beneath his shirt, and tracing gentle circles just above his hipbones. 

Neither seem particularly focused on the choreography anymore, and Mark lingers in the position a little longer before he turns to face Yuta, with another realisation of their closeness. Yuta's hands glide up to rest at Mark's sides. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Mark knows he really _should_ keep up with memorising the dance, but his focus is too much on how Yuta's staring at his lips, on how he's already eager for more of the other's touch. 

He's the one to ever so slightly lean in, though Yuta's talking before their lips can connect. "We should get home." 

Mark licks his own lips, examining Yuta's expression and tone for the implications of it, before nodding slightly. 

He thinks it's the longest ride to the dorms he's ever experienced, and every moment he's fiddling with something, busying his fingers. Even when they get there, and run into Jungwoo, who's insistent he's lost something and the pair knows where it is, Mark finds himself fiddling with the hem of his shirt, or looking anywhere but Jungwoo.

It feels like hours pass before he's finally in his room with Yuta, and the moment the door closes behind them, they're kissing. It's almost a relief, Mark finds, his lips having practically ached for Yuta's since they'd come so close to kissing at the practice room. Yuta's are soft and eager and he tastes like strawberries, and Mark's hands are all over the other, demanding more closeness again, more touches. 

Yuta takes notice of his urgency and just hums, sliding a hand that had been rested at the small of Mark's back to his ass instead, offering a slight squeeze that makes Mark draw a soft inhale against his lips. With that, the older moves backwards, guides Mark towards his bed, settling at the edge.

Mark takes this as a hint to climb into his lap, straddling him as if he were made to fit. He's the one to resume the kiss, the slightest messier and more careless than it had been earlier. It doesn't last as long as he wants it to, and he gives a breathy noise of complaint when Yuta separates them a moment later. His fingers tangle at the front of the other's shirt, and he shifts forward, wanting nothing but closeness.

Instead of kissing him again, Yuta's lips find place at Mark's neck, spoiling the skin with light kisses that makes the younger squirm in his lap. He's tempted to litter him with hickeys, to feel like Mark's _his,_ but he knows better than to leave him with that to explain the next morning. He does, however, suck softly at his skin just to tease the idea, to make a mental note of how it would feel.

"Oppa." Mark whines breathily, and it's enough to make Yuta pause. 

The younger insisted it had started as a joke, calling Yuta it, had even gotten the other younger members to do the same. He'd use it to get what he wanted, to annoy Yuta, but he hadn't quite expected to hear it like this. Regardless of whether Mark had intended to let it slip or not, Yuta decides two can play at that game. "What, princess?" He mutters, pressing a few more kisses to the warmth of his neck before leaning back to admire the flustered other ahead of him.

"Please." Mark whispers, and though Yuta isn't sure what Mark's asking for, who is he to deny someone so pretty and desperate?

Yuta leans in to give Mark a lingering kiss, the younger's fingers finding place in his hair, playing with it gently. Yuta's own hands move to the waistband of Mark's sweatpants, trailing fingers along it, like he's savouring every aspect of Mark. 

He slips his hand beneath the material, taking Mark's length into an open palm. He hums again as the other mumbles something incoherent, fingers wrapping around him to form a solid fist. He's barely moved his hand before Mark's hips are reacting, desperately bucking to fuck himself into Yuta's fist.

Yuta has to remind himself not to still completely to just admire the sight, how needy Mark is for _him,_ how pretty he looks like that. He drags his hand up and down Mark's cock at a steady pace, occasionally slowing to trace a thumb in soft circles over the tip, then resuming the pace, slightly faster everytime. 

Mark is a whining, mumbling mess beneath Yuta's touch. "Fuck, Oppa—" His eyes briefly squeeze shut, before he seems to decide he like the sight of Yuta more.

"Mm, you sound so pretty, Mark. Look so pretty, too." Yuta tells the other, bringing his pace to be just a little faster once more. 

Mark moans, and wills himself to lean in to kiss Yuta to quiet himself, knows the majority of the members are home and would never let him live down hearing him moaning about his _oppa._

His kiss is messy, and he slows to almost a stop often, just letting Yuta kiss him, move faster, grip him tighter. Mark whines against Yuta's lips, mumbles something neither can quite make out. 

"I wanna see your face." The older murmurs, and Mark straightens a little, leans back.

Yuta's gaze wanders over Mark's every feature, wanting to paint a mental picture of how pretty he looked like that, just for him. His wrist nags with a dull ache, but he only goes faster.

"So pretty," He continues to praise, to compliment, Mark's little breathy noises telling him he liked it. "So good for me, mm? My princess."

"Hyung. Close." Mark mumbles so softly Yuta barely hears.

Yuta's free hand gives Mark's thigh a firm squeeze. "Come for me." He runs his tongue across his lower lip, eyes not leaving the younger.

It doesn't take much more of Yuta continuing to increase his pace for Mark to become even more of a whining, moaning mess under his touch, and within moments come undone. As much as it makes Yuta lose most sense of thought, he still continues the movement, bringing his fist up and down throughout Mark's high, letting him come down from it slowly. 

"Fuck." Mark mutters, head going to rest at Yuta's shoulder.

He realises he still doesn't know that goddamn dance.

**Author's Note:**

> i do not know how to end smut :p


End file.
